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Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2021
I wish we talked in person
Love hearing you speak
Long to see your handsome face
Plant kisses on your cheek

I will never stop missing you
Regardless of how long you are away
In fact feelings grow stronger
Every single lonely day
For my hottie soldier boy
JKirin Oct 2021
I sit here
in the dark
lost in thoughts,
torn apart.

There is blood
on my hands
of my foes,
of my friends.

As I look at each finger,
I let memories linger.

Only blood
know my hands –
of my foes,
of my friends.

I am death,
unworthy
of your love,
your mercy.

Yet, you kiss every finger.
Your kind warmth, your breath linger.

I’m still here
in the dark,
but in you
I see light.
about a soldier who is loved tenderly despite his past
Ellis Reyes Sep 2021
Blinding flash
Eardrums burst
Blood, so much blood
Is it mine?
My eyes!
MEDIC!!

Snipping ripping
Scissors and hands tear away at my clothes
Water or something splashes
Burning everywhere
The smell...
**** and fire and burned meat
Is this what death smells like?
MOM!!!

Floating
No carried
On a litter
Now flying
UH-60
****!
Something jabbed...
Floating
Floating

Far away
Voices
Beeping
Crying
Screaming
Begging
Mom?

Closer
Voices
­Beeping
Wheels rolling
Machine sounds
Words
Mom...

Here, Now
Bright lights
Searing pain
Masked faces
Muffled voices
IV bags
Machine sounds
Mom
Questions
No answers

Where's my leg?
Jay M Aug 2021
When the rain pours at midnight
When the melodies carry through the stillness
When tears cannot dare to escape pained eyes
When hearts ache with a grip in their chests
Do they know of one another?

All across the land and sea
Though not a soul could see
Bare witness to the agony within
The hour the darkness threatens to win
To close around tormented souls

Do they know of the others
All caught within the expanse of the void
Silence or noise, either could smother
The soldier, unknowingly deployed?

- Jay M
August 26th, 2021
Somehow, always late into the night, many fall into their darkest or more mystifying thoughts.
Daivik Aug 2021
They had nothing to give
To their motherland
Except their mortal lives
So they gave it cheerfully
Without a second thought
To see her wrinkled smile
FC Azaele May 2021
Rage...
A fuelling flame, burning bright
Rage, Rage
A dancing fighter captured against the cold of the night
Nowhere to go,
but still, he moves to find the center of the light
refusing to grieve as he moves past the cold winter night
Rage, Rage
as the cold be fought like a blight
What sin can be found against the dim, darkness amidst fright
where men be fondled across the crooked bridge high
on the cold winter night
Rage, Rage
do not run nor let the ego falter
take on the cold winter night as if it were a blight
good soldier.
Rage, Rage..
like a fuelling flame, burning bright
"Do not go gentle into that good night."
Zack Ripley Feb 2021
When I left home,
I was broken and bruised.
Daddy took it out on me
When he fell victim to the *****.
I thought when I graduated,
I'd finally get to choose.
Find a world where the bars
played rock instead of the blues.
The day everything changed,
There was a fork in the road.
There was a wise old man,
And this is what I was told.
"If you go to the left, you'll stay in hell.
But you'll get your revenge
when he dies in a cell.
But if you don't want revenge,
go to the right.
You'll travel the world,
you'll make a difference.
But it will be hard to sleep at night."
I didn't even think. I ran to the right.
He told me it would never be the same
If I ever had to come back.
But I was okay with that.
I had everything I needed in my sack.
Five years later,
I woke up alone in bed.
A purple heart hung above my head.
Even though I am where I am today,
I don't regret it.
Because when I go to my grave,
When someone is asked to describe me,
They'll say "he was brave."
JoyAndPain Feb 2021
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.

Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.

One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
This is not an original poem. it was written by Frank Green in 1869
i found it in a book called "And then there were none." it is very good. i recomend it. if you want to know it is about 10 people who are stuck on an island called soldier island after being tricked into going. one by one there are all **** by a madman disquised as a guest. ther is a lot more to the story but i dont want to spoil it.
Jay M Jan 2021
Racing across
The well worn path
Of old earth and stone
Down the road
Over the hilltop
Not a moment
To brace for impact
Only the collision
Cast back
To the earth that flowed beneath
Now coated with a thin layer
Mind as scattered and disturbed
As the earth and grass below

Gaze across
To what lies just paces ahead
To yet another
Disoriented fellow
Pages strewn about
As is an apologetic voice
Hands fluttering about
Like freed doves

Risen and collected,
Words shared and spoken
Together they then go
Towards the setting sun
With mighty sword
Ink and pen
Away to battle they shall go

With sword strong and gleaming bright
Surely to survive the fight
Sharper than thorns
To pierce the veil
Their enemies to wail
The soldier shall prevail

With ink as black as darkest night
Words well weaved, bold with might
Surging with power of great war horns
To give strength without fail
Their foes sure to flail
The poet shall prevail

On goes the soldier
Powerful in skill
Master of the sword
And precision in the ****

On goes the poet
Sharpest in will
Master of the word
And always ink to spill

Away they go,
Walking to and fro
They shall lead their lives on well
Never to hide inside a shell
The soldier and the poet

- Jay M
January 12th, 2021
Oh how things will go. A fun one to write, truly a delight.
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